Changing of the Guard
by Portrait of a Scribe
Summary: "At the changing of the guard, the old becomes the new. At the changing of the guard, all things must pass from one warden to the next." Vignette. Rated for some imagery.


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Changing of the Guard  
By Portrait of a Scribe

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___"At the changing of the guard, all things pass from one warden to the next..."  
-Portrait of a Scribe_

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All he had wanted was a little rest, a little rest after his trials and hardships. But instead, he had gotten a full-scale siege… and had lost. Badly. His only consolation was that the villagers had gotten out safely. But his uncle was dead, his home was in ruins, and last he had checked, he was slowly dying from his wounds.

So, where was he?

Standing in a field of white, dressed in his father's old Assassin robes once more. That was where he was. Maybe this was purgatory, then? If it was, he was just relieved that he had not been sent straight to hell. After all, he had died on the road, so he had not received the Last Rites or given confession and received absolution. So surely this could not be heaven, for he did not think that he would make it to heaven, let alone that it would be so… empty.

He wondered absently if anybody would recognize his body. He had died in the middle of the night, and the weather had been warm for the season. By the time they found his corpse, it would probably be as bloated as his father's and brothers' bodies were when he dug them out of the quicklime before setting them adrift and burning them. Maybe he would be so bloated and covered with maggot-froth and fly eggs that nobody would be able to recognize him…

For a long time he stood there, thinking, watching, waiting, for what, he did not know. But at length, he became aware of a figure moving toward him, head bowed and hands clasped in a semblance of prayer. The figure was clothed in white but for a splash of red at its waist. As the figure drew closer and closer, he could make out yet more red on it, stemming from great wounds in its side and shoulder.

"_Nusquam est verus, panton est licitus_."

It was the barest whisper in his mind, but he heard it as clearly as if it had been shouted in his ear.

"_Caveo Judas inter paganus filiolus, caveo suum proditor lacuna_."

And suddenly the figure was at his shoulder, one calloused, bloodied hand landing upon his pauldron as it passed him by. A glimpse of a scarred lip and a hand missing a ring finger, and he knew that he was going to have to move on, to use the strength the figure had just given him to continue his work.

"_Procul institutio tutela, vetus fio novus_."

At the changing of the guard, Ezio Auditore da Firenze met Altaïr ibn La-Ahad. At the changing of the guard, the mantle was finally passed.

"_Procul institutio tutela, totus res obduco ex unus custodiae custodie ut tunc_."

And the guard changed, and the figure in white was gone, and Ezio woke up in a cot in a small room with a woman leaning over him, staring at him with one gray eye and one gold.

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_**Disclaimer**: I own nothing of Assassin's Creed but for a copy of each of the games and the soundtracks._

_**(Approximate) Latin Translations**:_  
_Nusquam est verus, panton est licitus. **Nothing is real, everything is permitted**._  
_Caveo Judas inter paganus filiolus, caveo suum proditor lacuna. **Beware the Judas among the pagan gods, beware their traitorous words**._  
_Procul institutio tutela, vetus fio novus. **At the trading of the guard, the old becomes the new**._  
_Procul institutio tutela, totus res obduco ex unus custodiae custodie ut tunc. **At the trading of the guard, all things pass from one warden to the next**._

_Done in honor of Brotherhood's release, 12 a.m. this morning. I've already got my copy, w00t~!_

_If you didn't know or couldn't tell, this is Ezio and Altaïr. Heavily inspired by a picture in the strategy guide that shows Altaïr and Ezio walking past each other. Altaïr has his hand on Ezio's shoulder, as though he's saying, "It's up to you, now." *sighs dreamily* Now, if only we could get those two to actually INTERACT in-game... I think I'd just about die and go to heaven._

_This makes a slight reference to **Barabbas**, for those of you who have read it. Just in the location of Altaïr's wounds, but that's it. I actually have something else planned for **Barabbas**..._

_Please tell me what you think!_

_-Portrait of a Scribe_


End file.
